


Finding Finley

by midnightcities



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Blind Date, Coming of Age, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Fun, Light-Hearted, Non-Famous Harry, Self-Discovery, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2019-07-05 08:46:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15860223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightcities/pseuds/midnightcities
Summary: For Finley O'Connor love comes second, much to her mother’s dismay. For Harry Styles, life couldn’t revolve without love. When the pair are set up on a blind date, they make a pact to help each other get the thing that is apparently missing from their lives. But how long will it take for them to realise what truly is missing?A story about being 23, blind dates, and finding who you truly are.





	1. The First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> My second attempt at actually finishing this fic that has been swirling in my brain for almost 2 years now. Hope you enjoy!

_MUM: Where are you??_

The phone in my hand buzzed for the second time in ten minutes. I rolled my eyes as I swiped away the notification. I shoved my phone into the side pocket of my bag, gripping my hand around one of the poles lining the train carriage. The train slowed to a stop causing multiple bodies to bump into my own, I was glad I picked the perfect moment to hold on.

It was a Friday night, meaning the train was full to the brim with both workers heading home and young adults heading out. I would've loved to be apart of the 'heading home' crew, but sadly for me a Friday night outing has been organised. Trust my mum to demand family dinner at some restaurant that required me to travel in peak hour commuter time to Oxford Street, a fate worse than death some would consider.

I felt my phone vibrate once again in my bag, but due to tight constraints I actually couldn't reply this time. Two stops later and I pushed my way through the throngs of commuters onto the Oxford Circus platform. Readjusting my bag, I pulled out my phone again to finally reply to my mother.

_ME: just got off the tube, bloody nightmare. maps says its a 7 min walk, see you soon_

I tacked on a smiley-face emoji to hopefully abate my mother's growing annoyance. She insisted on everyone meeting at the restaurant at 6:30pm sharp. I knew it was going to be a close call to make it there on time, one extended staff meeting later meant I was walking down Oxford Street and it was already 6:52pm. I weaved my way expertly through the crowded footpath, diligently following the directions on my phone. I cut down a side street and found myself outside the restaurant. I smiled to myself as I checked the time once again. 6:56pm. A 7-minute walk cut into 5 minutes. That was one good thing at least.

The restaurant was absolutely buzzing with people, in fact I was quite surprised by my mother's choice for a dinner reservation. It definitely wasn't her usual style. I pushed past the small groups of people gathered around the tables outside and began to crane my head around looking for my family. Once inside, I was even more surprised by the venue. It was essentially a bar, but a bar that also served a full menu of food. There was people everywhere, gathered around bar tables, seated in booths, sitting at tables, even some people moving about on what looked like a makeshift dance floor. This place must come alive in the late hours of the night.

Despite the bustling of people, I couldn't spot my mum's red hair or one of my dad's obnoxiously bright button-downs. I crinkled my brows, maybe I got the place wrong? I unlocked my phone and scrolled back through the messages with my mum looking for the address she sent me. Berwick Street, I was definitely in the right place.

_ME: where are you guys? im standing near the door_

I chewed my lip as I surveyed the room again before turning my attention back to my phone once more. Really? She texts me how many times in the space of ten minutes and now she's just suddenly not replying?

_ME: hello?? help me out i look like a prat just standing here_

"Um... Hi..." I looked up from my phone to see that I was being spoken to. A boy stood in front of me with a sheepish grin on his face, his hands tucked into the pockets of his dark jeans. One of the workers here maybe? He did look the part.

"Oh, hello. I could actually use your help; I believe there should be a reservation under O'Connor. Or maybe Barbara?"

His eyes widened. "Umm..."

"Sorry, I would normally just try and find the people I'm meeting but it's so busy in here. Is it always this crazy on a Friday?"

He stared at me, looking extremely confused. Was I rambling too much?

"You're... Finley, right?" He finally spoke.

I raised my eyebrows, caught off guard. "How do you know my name?"

He studied me intently. "Something's telling me you've been led here on wrong assumptions."

"I'm here for a family dinner thing..."

He laughed and shook his head, suddenly looking a little more relaxed. He ran his hand through his hair. It was probably cropped short at one point but the haircut had obviously grown out, leaving the ends of his hair curling into each other. "You might want to ring whoever told you that. I'll grab us a table though, come over when you're ready."

Completely dumbfounded, I watched as the boy turned away. His curly head of hair almost immediately disappeared into the sea of people. What the hell was going on. I turned and pushed back outside, where it was slightly quieter and immediately dialled my mother's phone.

"Finley, hello." She greeted me in a completely nonchalant tone.

"Don't ' _hello_ ' me, what the hell is going on? Where are you all?"

"So you met Harry then?"

Her nonplussed approach to the conversation was just putting me more and more on edge. "You mean the boy who apparently knows who I am and what's going on?"

"Yes, his name is Harry Styles. He sounds like such a nice boy, comes from a good home. Your Aunty May works with his mum, said he's had a bit of a tough time lately." I finally started to wrap my head around what was going on.

"What are you on about? Am I not here for dinner? With the family at least?" I said slowly, trying to bite back my impending rage.

"Well, obviously not Finley! I've set you up on a blind date, isn't this so exciting. A blind date that you were almost 30 minutes late for might I add. He's definitely a good lad for waiting around for you."

I couldn't believe that she was going on and on as if this was all okay. "Are you serious?! Why didn't you tell me that I was meeting some bloody sod for a bloody date?"

"Well, you have just proven my point. Would you have willingly gone on this date if you knew? Just a little lie to get you there Finny, no harm done."

I rolled my eyes and pulled my phone away from my ear to stop myself from cursing up a storm. "Point proven or not," I shoved my phone back to my ear, "there's no reason why my mother of all people should be setting me up on dates! I'm perfectly capable of doing that myself, thank you very much."

She laughed once. "Oh Finley, when was the last time you seriously dated someone? You're almost 24, I'm just trying to jump start something!"

"I didn't know being 23 and single was a crime now."

"No, no! I just worry about you!"

I sighed heavily. I knew she had good intentions at heart, but still this was a big inconvenience. Sometimes I couldn't help but blame my younger brother for my mother's sudden interest in my love life. He's only 22 and has already found the love of his life, in fact they were set to be married in a few months’ time. Ever since he announced to the family that he was proposing to Abbi my mother had gone into a right state over how her eldest child is going to become a spinster. That aside, this blind date has definitely taken things too far.

"Mum, I know. But I don't need you to do things like this."

"Look, I know you think I'm being too meddlesome right now—"

"That's an understatement."

"But all I'm asking is for you to sit down and just have some drinks and a bite to eat with him. I promise I won't force any further dates with him."

I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed my forehead, almost as if I was trying to prevent an impending headache. "Fine. Seeing as I trekked all this way."

"Oh, lovely!" I could picture her practically jumping up and down in joy.

"I really wish you told me I was going on a date though. I look like a tosser. I didn't even have time to put a lick of makeup on this morning because I slept through my first alarm."

"I told you to bring a change of clothes for dinner! Why don't you listen to me?" She chastised.

"Um, because you told me it was just dinner with the family. Why the hell would I dress up for that?"

She sighed. "Well, just try and make a good impression okay? Use your charming personality."

I laughed. "Do first impressions last? Because I've already mistaken him for the waiter of this joint. That and the fact that I've made him wait for ages."

"Oh god, Finny."

"Look, I better go. He probably already thinks I've skived off."

"Good luck, honey. I can't wait to hear all about it!"

"Goodbye, mum." I promptly ended the call to further enforce my annoyance about this whole situation.

I forcefully shoved my phone back into my bag and took a deep breath to calm myself. A bloody date. I still can't believe it. I smoothed my hands over my dark pants, suddenly becoming self conscious of my attire. Working in HR isn't all that glamorous, so I really felt that my simple white blouse, grey woollen coat and trousers weren't up to a blind date standard. But this is all I had to work with. I shook out my arms and took another calming breath. Pulling my auburn hair over to one shoulder, I strode back into the bar.

I wove my way through the crowd, looking for that distinctive crop of curls. I spotted him occupying one of the many booths that lined the edges of the place. He was already nursing a drink (Alcohol? I couldn't tell) and was fiddling with one of the napkins on the table. He looked nervous, makes two of us at least.

As smoothly as I could, I slid into the opposite side of the booth. "So, Harry is it?"


	2. The Pact

If I was going to make it through this embarrassment of a date, I needed alcohol. Not too much where I became absolutely sloshed and caused more harm than good, but enough where I could actually feel comfortable sitting across from a stranger and discuss all things Finley. So, that’s why after 15 minutes of fumbling small talk I was already on my second gin and tonic. Harry still had half of his first beer in front of him, and that’s after I forced him to order something alcoholic (turns out that first drink was just plain Coke).

A waitress had come to take our order, which made me realise how hungry I actually was. Harry was sure to point out the uniform that the workers of the bar were wearing, causing my face to redden at my previous blunder of thinking he was a waiter. However, after that the conversation lulled into an awkward silence. Great. Not even a half hour in and we already didn’t have anything to talk about.

After swirling my straw around in my drink and looking everywhere to avoid Harry’s intense gaze, I could feel myself becoming squirmish. He cleared his throat, resulting in me snapping my eyes to his. He looked uncomfortable.

“Um— “

“So— “

We both started at the same time. I smiled sheepishly at him, but prompted him to continue.

“I was just going to throw it out there, seeing as this is a little new for both of us. I mean, I’m just assuming you don’t go on blind dates often.” He said with a nervous smile.

Shit. Was it that obvious that I had no idea how to conduct myself in front of a random stranger? “You would be correct.”

He laughed. “Don’t worry, you’re not the only one. So, why have you been tricked into this date? There must be a reason you weren’t informed of the real plan for tonight.”

“Where to start,” I chuckled. “My mother believes I’m incapable of having a serious relationship, that being my age and single is unheard of.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Your age being…”

“23, practically on death’s doorstep according to her.” I said with an eye roll.

“So, just because you’re 23 and single your mum sets you up on dates?”

I needed another swig of my drink if we were going to get into all this. “I have a younger brother, he’s 22 and already engaged. Because I’m the older one she worries that I’ll be alone forever just because he found his soulmate at the age of 17.”

“And you despise your brother because of that?”

“What?! No way, I am extremely happy for him. I just don’t personally feel that finding love or being in love is of the highest priority right now. It’ll happen in due time, I guess.”

Harry nodded his head, digesting my viewpoint. He looked deep in thought. I chewed the inside of my cheek, suddenly feeling like I may have overshared. Telling your date that you’re not interested in finding love is probably not a promising sign for a future relationship.

“So, what about you?” I spoke hastily, I wanted to pull him out of his train of thought, to stop him analysing everything I had just said. “You’re in the same boat as me, 23 and single. I’m assuming your age here, apologies if I’m wrong.”

“No, 23 is correct. And yeah… Single.” He said the word with some degree of bitterness. I chose to ignore it.

“Obviously, if you’re sat here across from me in some bar on a Friday night.”

He gave me a small smile. “Well, I guess you could say my situation is the complete opposite of yours. I’ve never not been in a relationship practically.”

I snorted. “You’re joking.”

“Unfortunately, no. Always had a way with the ladies, I guess. Never anything serious, you know, school crushes and all that.” He said with a laugh. “Wasn’t until I was 16 that I thought I found ‘the one’. We were together for 6 years. I was thinking about settling down, she was thinking about moving on I guess. Broke up with me last year.”

“Oh, shit. Harry…” I immediately felt uneasy. Here I was, blabbing on about how I don’t care about being in love and this poor bloke has just had his heart broken. “I’m so sorry…”

He smiled, but it definitely didn’t meet his eyes. “No need to apologise. It is what it is.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I had known…”

“Finley, don’t worry. How were you supposed to know anyways?”

I was about to counter-argue, but I was interrupted by a waiter placing our food in front of us. I took the welcome distraction of a hot meal and hoped that eating would help disintegrate some of the awkwardness that had been created. We both happily tucked into our meals, silently agreeing to leave the conversation as is. However, once we had finished and our empty plates had been cleared away, I could still feel the discomfort hanging in the air. Harry looked as though he was in silent conversation with himself, one guess would say he was thinking about his ex. My bloody fault.

“I’ll be right back.” I finally spoke. He looked up at me, almost as thought he had forgotten I was sitting across from him this whole time.

I left the booth and worked my way into the small crowd. I was definitely right about this place coming alive in the later hours, it was nearing 9pm and the amount of people in here looked like it had doubled. This just made my journey to the bar all that more difficult. Once I had wormed my way to the front and attracted one of the bartender's attention, I ordered two Kamikaze shots. An apology offering, I figured.

Carefully, I worked my way back to Harry. I slid the shot glass in front of him before taking a seat. He crinkled his brow in confusion and opened his mouth to refuse, I assume.

“No, no. Before you say anything, I want to apologise. I bet that last thing you wanted from tonight was reminiscing on your ex-girlfriend. It’s a shit go. And whilst I might not be experienced in break-ups, I know that alcohol will help with anything. So, please accept this shot. One part apology, one part to help forget.” I raised the shot glass, a prompt to get him to follow. Instead, he just stared.

“Oh, please Harry. I feel like proper shit; I really don’t want the only thing you got from me tonight was getting depressed.”

Finally, he cracked a smile. “I suppose a hangover would be better then?”

I grinned back. “You bloody know it.”

He raised the shot glass and clinked it against my own.

“To new beginnings.” I brought the glass to my lips and Harry followed. We both downed the alcohol, Harry pulling a face immediately. He shook his head, his curls becoming instantly dishevelled, and laughed. “Why do I get the impression you don’t do this often?”

“Because I don’t. Being in a relationship during your early 20s means there wasn’t much time for partying.”

I gaped. “Now that’s just criminal. We are getting you smashed tonight, make up for lost time.”

“Wh— No! I didn’t mean it like— Trust me, that wasn’t an invitation—” He stuttered out excuses.

“No, no. I have decided for you.” I craned my neck around, looking to attract the attention of one of the staff. I caught the eye of a girl and she began to make her way over. “Trust me, you will not regret it. Everyone needs to let loose once in a while, and you’ve got a good excuse to do it as well.” The waitress arrived at our table and I promptly ordered 4 more shots and 2 beers, a chaser I explained when Harry looked at me absolutely horrified.

Another half hour later, I had forced Harry to down this third shot followed by a swig of beer. I laughed as he placed his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking with laughter as well. “I can’t believe you’ve convinced me to do this.” He looked up at me. His eyes were glassy and cheeks flushed. I could see the alcohol was well and truly in his system. And I could feel it as well. I was already 2 drinks up on Harry, counting those earlier gin and tonics, so I was currently in a happy daze, the room around me ever so slightly swaying.

“You’re welcome.”

He chuckled and stretched out across his side of the booth, his head falling back onto the top of the seat. His eyes fell shut and in that moment, he looked completely at peace. I smiled to myself, slightly proud that I had actually helped him relax. I let him sit, my gaze wandering around the bar.

“Shall we get going?” His voice caused me to jump. I wasn’t even sure how long we had been sitting there in silence, alcohol did tend to make time move funny. I glanced down at my phone and was surprised that it was already after 10:30pm. I nodded and we both got up from the booth.

Standing up made me realise just how much I actually had to drink. I had to grip my hands on the table for a moment just to gather my bearings. Harry laughed but did help me into my coat. Despite my drunken haze, I did manage to pass over some bills to the man behind the till. Harry insisted on covering it all, but I ensured that I at least paid for all the alcohol I had forced him to ingest. Being outside in the cool night air made me realise how stuffy it was in the bar, I was glad for the coolness against my reddened face.

“Where you headed?” Harry began walking up towards Oxford Street. I followed.

“Train, you?”

“Yeah, same.”

I nodded, immediately throwing all my focus into not stumbling around like some prat. I was glad that, once arriving at Oxford Circus station, that we only had to wait a few minutes for my train to arrive. I turned to farewell Harry just as it was about to roll to a stop but was surprised to see him get on and sit down. I stumbled after him. “I can’t believe we catch the same line. Don’t tell me we are actually neighbours or something?” I fell into the seat next to him just as the train moved off.

“Where you get off?”

“Croydon. You?”

“Watford.”

“Oh, right… Wait— “ I processed what he had just said. “You idiot, you’re on the wrong bloody train. This is the line to go south!”

He chuckled and looked over at me, his eyes hazy.

“Bloody hell, you’re more wasted than I thought…”

“Finley, I’m being a proper gentleman and taking you home. Not gonna let you sit alone on the tube at this time.”

I stared in disbelief. “I…Well then. Thank you, I suppose.” I chewed on my lip. “Does this mean I need to offer you to stay the night or something? I mean, no offence, you’re a swell guy but I feel this evening didn’t really go there for me and I know we’re both sloshed but— “

He barked out a laugh. “It’s okay, Finley. I’m not doing this with any ulterior motive, just trying to be a good person. Train ride will help sober me up anyways.”

I nodded slowly, still in shock.

“I really did have a good night though. Far from what I expected, so thank you. It did help.”

Silence enveloped us, apart from the rattle of the train.

“Can I ask…” I spoke quietly, a few minutes later. “What was her name?”

He looked over at me, I could see him digesting the question. “Isabel.” He finally replied with a sad smile.

“Do you miss her?”

“A lot.” He turned his attention to the darkness outside the window. I sensed he didn’t want to continue down this line of conversation. I was wrong though. “Not sure how you enjoy being single, to be honest. I’m struggling.”

“I never said I enjoyed it. I would love to be in a relationship, to have someone always in my corner.” The words just fell out, I was even a little surprised by the honesty behind them. “Never really said that out loud to anyone before…”

He reached over a gripped my hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “There’ll be someone Finley.”

My drunken self appreciated the gesture. “You too.”

He sighed. “Still can’t help but feel that someone was Isabel. I would… I would really do anything to be back with her.”

My turn to squeeze his hand. I leaned into him, feeling that both of our sad, sorry arses could use the comfort of another human. We sat like that for a while, the steady rocking of the train lulling both of us into a sleepy daze. It wasn’t until Harry shifted that I realised it was time to disembark. He followed me out onto the platform.

I turned to him. “Okay, I do appreciate you catching the train here with me but I really don’t need you to walk me home. You’ve got a bit of a journey back.”

“Well, if you insist.”

I let out a breath. “Well…”

“Thanks again for tonight, sorry if I dampened the evening at all with all that relationship crap.” He shoved his hands into his pocket.

“Not at all.” I rocked back and forth on my toes before going in for a hug. He wrapped his arm firmly around my waist, tucking his head into the crook of my neck. He smelled nice.

We pulled apart, and with a small wave I began to walk up whilst he moved down the platform, waiting for a train back.

He was almost out of sight when I suddenly found myself jogging back. “Harry— “

He looked up in surprise.

“Look, maybe I can help you out with Isabel or something. I might not have the best luck in the relationship department but I can sure as hell help with yours.” The idea had been presented before I had even processed it properly.

I studied him intently, watching as his expression changed from utter confusion to deep focus to a hesitant smile. “Would you really?”

I shrugged. “I don’t really have anything to lose, and I did quite enjoy your company tonight, despite the awkward circumstances.”

He chuckled. “Alright then, but only if I get to help you find someone.”

“Oh— No, that’s fine.”

“Come on, Finley! Trust me.”

Thoughts swirled around my brain, feeling extremely reluctant. “I suppose so… But the main focus is you.”

He thrust out his hand. “Shake on it and it’s an official pact.”

Slowly, I raised my hand and met his. “I better not regret this.”

He laughed. “I’m sure I’ll scrounge someone up Finley.”

I rolled my eyes, but still cracked a smile. “Alright, well good night then.”

“Good night.”

“Oh, and if we’re gonna do this, it’s Fin.”

He grinned. “Good night, Fin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first blind date of the story and we got a pact, what could possibly go wrong?!  
> thanks for reading! :)


	3. The Friend Request

 

Saturday mornings were my favourite. It was my one of my only chances of being completely alone in my flat and therefore one of my only chances of solitude. So, despite the fact that I rolled into bed in a drunken state not long after midnight feeling exhausted from walking home from the station, I still forced my tired self out of bed when my alarm chirped at 7am.

In theory, having a flatmate seems like an awesome idea. You have someone to split rent and bills costs, someone to help with the household chores, someone to come home to. In practice, however, it’s not so simple. Alice was my flatmate, and calling her intense would be putting it lightly. I found her advertisement for a flatmate in the local paper and on a whim decided to follow up on it. The flat was great, good location and spacious. I signed on to the one year lease with her almost immediately. This is something I would come to regret in the following weeks.

Alice was a clean freak. A no-food-in-the-bedroom, no-drinks-without-a-coaster, no-items-in-the-cupboard-without-a-label type of clean freak. And while it was endearing at first, five months later and I was almost always on edge when I was at home. One thing out of place, and Alice would be shooting me daggers and making my life all that much crappier for the rest of the week. So, that’s why I came to cherish Saturday mornings. Alice always worked the Saturday morning shift at one of the local cafés so that meant I had until 12pm to relax around the flat before going to hole myself up in my room for the rest of the week, the only relatively Alice-free zone.

I shuffled into the immaculately clean kitchen and grabbed the loaf of sliced bread from the freezer (labelled WHOLEGRAIN, EXP: 18 OCT 2018) and threw two pieces into the toaster before boiling some water. A good cup of tea would immediately scrub the hazy state my mind was currently in. Whilst I wasn’t hungover, the shots last night meant I woke up with a small ache in the back of my head. The lack of sleep probably didn’t help either.

Once my tea was sufficiently brewed and my toast coated in peanut butter (EXP: 11 JAN 2019), I settled myself on the lounge and pulled up my laptop. The real reason I loved Saturday mornings so much was that it was one of my only peaceful, distraction-free times to write. Script writing to be specific. It started as a topic of interest when I began to expand my film watching horizons as a teen, and three elective classes at uni later had me hooked. I was completely enamoured with the fact that every great movie started with a great script. Whilst it was just a hobby, I couldn’t help but love crafting and blocking out scenes of my wildest imaginations. And whilst writing had become an important part of my life, I preferred to keep my hobby on the down low. This made those few hours of being home alone all that more precious. These past few weeks I had been re-working my own version of  _ How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.  _ After spending a lonely Friday night watching it on Netflix I was struck with inspiration and decided to take the characters into my own hands.

Whilst munching on my toast, I clicked through and deleted any unimportant emails, checked my iMessage as I couldn’t be bothered getting my phone from my bedside table and logged onto Facebook. I made it a point to check my social media, mainly as my mum insisted on tagging me in as many posts as possible and if I didn’t promptly reply I would have a phone call from her asking why I was ignoring her.

This morning there was only 2 notifications. And, to my surprise, a friend request. I clicked on the illuminated red (1) and audibly laughed when I saw who it was. Harry Styles. I pressed accept without hesitation, and against better judgement, clicked onto his profile.

I caught myself smiling as his full profile loaded up. His profile picture featured him grinning cheekily at the camera, his arm thrown around a boy with blonde hair who was gripping a pint of beer. I scrolled down his page, various photos and posts littering his wall. I saw the same three or four faces cropping up with Harry, it definitely looked like he had a close knit group of friends.

I had scrolled all the way back to 2014 when I saw a picture of Harry with a girl. A quick glance at who was tagged confirmed that it was Isabel. Gorgeous was an understatement. Her hair, a light shade of brown with a perfect amount of golden highlights, was cascading down over one of her shoulders. She was wearing a simple red dress, but on her it looked tailor made. It was a candid shot, both of them looking into each others eyes with their faces split into laughing grins. You could feel the love radiating from them both just from looking at the photo. It was almost hard to believe that two years later they would be broken up.

I was just about to close the tab when a message box popped up at the bottom of the page. I almost spilt my tea when I saw who it was, like he knew I had just spent the past 20 minutes thoroughly combing through his Facebook profile.

_ Harry Styles: well hello there, early riser _

I chuckled to myself, my fingers hovering over the keys as I formulated a response.

_ Finley O’Connor: hello stranger. same can be said to you, i’m surprised you are awake after all those shots _

_ Harry Styles: you may be shocked to hear that i can actually handle my alcohol _

_ Harry Styles: i was almost afraid you weren’t going to accept my friend request _

_ Finley O’Connor: i’ll be honest, i almost didn’t accept based on the fact that you had already found my profile without me even telling you my full name last night. stalker abilities on point? _

_ Harry Styles: hahahaha _

_ Harry Styles: i will also be honest, i knew your last name before we even met last night. your aunt basically gave my mum your birth certificate lol _

_ Harry Styles: i also may have stalked you on fb before last night. felt like i shouldnt add you until i met you though, didn’t want to be a creep _

_ Finley O’Connor: ah, so that’s how you knew who i was when i walked in last night. creep status has definitely achieved _

_ Harry Styles: oh don’t act like you havent just been stalking my profile _

_ Harry Styles: i know i have on yours. did you enjoy tea at the langham last month? _

I laughed. At least I felt a little better about my shameless Facebook stalking.

_ Finley O’Connor: omg _

_ Finley O’Connor: how do i block people on facebook??? _

_ Finley O’Connor: just kidding. i scrolled back to 2014 so beat that _

I decided to move from the lounge to my favourite writing spot, the dining table. At this time of the morning, the sun was always at the perfect angle to warm my back as I typed away. I settled into the chair, opening up the Word Doc containing my work in progress. Before I could type a word though, the Facebook message tone blipped.

_ Harry Styles: find anything interesting? _

I contemplated for a moment whether I should mention the Isabel photo. Considering how candid Harry ended up being about his relationship last night, I figured it wasn’t unapproachable territory.

_ Finley O’Connor: yes, actually. an old photo of you and isabel _

I stared expectantly at the small chat box, waiting for the dots to appear to signify he was responding. The seconds ticked by and I began chewing my lip. Perhaps a wrong move? I clicked back to my half written script, trying not to fixate on something so small. However, when the message tone pinged again a couple minutes later, I scrambled to click back to the page.

_ Harry Styles: yeah there’s still a few photos scattered through there, ones she hasn’t deleted yet anyways _

I didn’t know how to respond. I could sense it was still a touchy subject, not that I blamed him. But, he ended up responding for me.

_ Harry Styles: speaking of…. _

_ Harry Styles: were you serious about what you suggested last night? i know we were both a little tipsy… _

I raised my eyebrows. I had forgotten about the drunken pact we had made on the Croydon platform late last night. I actually had some second-hand embarrassment from the idea I had hatched, why did I even think it was a good idea?

_ Finley O’Connor: oh that pact thing? we don’t actually have to do that lol. just a bit of a laugh you know _

_ Harry Styles: what?? no i already have someone in mind to set you up with _

Now it was my turn to delay a response. Was he being serious? Was this something I should actually involve myself into? I mean, I had met Harry once and all of the sudden I’m supposed to trust his taste in men for me? And on top of that, he’s supposed to trust me to help him win back his ex-girlfriend? I was half-wishing I could’ve just kept my drunken mouth shut last night.

_ Harry Styles: hello?? Fin????? _

I sighed, my fingers moving almost independently.

_ Finley O’Connor: i mean…. if you’re really serious about it, then sure _

I hoped I wasn’t going to live to regret this.

_ Harry Styles: brilliant _

_ Harry Styles: wanna grab breakfast? discuss logistics?? _

My eyes flickered over to the time displayed in the top left hand corner of my laptop. It had just ticked past 8am, meaning I had 4 hours of non-Alice time ahead of me. Meeting with Harry would cut into that. I sighed as I clicked back over to my half-written script, my eyes skimming over the last few lines I had typed out. I guess I could miss my writing session for one week.

_ Finley O’Connor: have somewhere in mind? _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for a bit of a slow chapter, hopefully you'll stick with this lil story.


	4. The Plan

In general, trains weren’t really my favourite mode of transportation. They were stuffy, they were crowded, and there were always some interesting characters awaiting either on the carriage or the platform. So, I was surprised with myself that Harry had convinced me to take not one, but three trains up to Watford to have a bite to eat with him. It was just under an hour journey, and that’s including my mad dash from my first train to Victoria Station and then again 7 minutes later at Euston. But, I forced away any annoyance I had about the journey when I remembered that Harry had done this same thing by himself late last night, just to ‘be a gentleman’.

It was just on a quarter to ten when I found myself standing outside the main entrance of Watford Junction train station. I was scrolling back through the most recent slew of Facebook messages from Harry to find the address of the café he had suggested, some place called The Grinders. I keyed the location into Maps, only to let out a huff of disappointment when it displayed the 18-minute walking route. I was contemplating ordering an Uber when an incessant stream of a beeping car horn caused me to look up from my phone.

“What— Harry?” I squinted, trying to confirm whether or not it was actually Harry sitting behind the wheel of a beat-up blue hatchback, waving frantically. The car rolled out of the spot it was parked in and slowed to a stop in front of me.

The window wound down, revealing that it was indeed Harry. “Fin! Come on, get in.”

I blinked away my surprise before pulling the door open and sliding in. “You didn’t mention picking me up.”

He glanced over his shoulder as he pulled out towards the exit. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Had to come and pick up the car from here so I thought that I may as well wait for you to arrive, drive us both over, y’know?”

“Pick up the car?”

“Well, thought I wouldn’t take my chances last night and drive home half-drunk, so I walked home.” He said with a shrug and a half-smile. So, not only did Harry take part in possibly the worst first date he has ever experienced, but the poor sod backtracked an hour only to have to walk home from the station. Well, now I definitely felt like shit.

“Just have to pop back home though,” Harry spoke before I had a chance to voice my guilt, “I’m an idiot and forgot my wallet.”

I nodded, silently promising that I would pay for his brunch as further apology for a crap Friday night.

Watford was actually quite a pretty town. Littered with 20th Century architecture, an abundance of greenery, and numerous store fronts, it was surprising that I have never ventured to this far north of London. Harry and I sat in silence as I absorbed my surroundings, the only sound coming from the pop tunes playing softly from the radio. Twelve minutes and numerous turns later, the car shuddered to a halt on a street lined with multiple, cramped townhouses.

“You can come up if you want. I mean, I wouldn’t want to sit in this car for any longer than necessary. The smell… is questionable.” Harry chuckled.

As he mentioned it, I noticed the distinct, musty smell that the old car held. Years of dust, what smelled like stale smoke, and who knows what else tainted the interior. I wrinkled my nose and followed Harry as he proceeded to get out of the car. He pushed past a gate that had definitely seen better days and ambled up the cracked stairs to the front porch.

“Uh… Also another warning,” he spoke as he twisted his key into the front door, “it’s a bit of a disaster zone in there. Three guys living together in a cramped house is not the most ideal.”

Despite the warning, I was still caught off guard when Harry swung the front door open. The hallway was lined with boxes, each labelled in illegible scrawl. I could peek a staircase behind multiple precarious piles of books. Harry and I walked single file down the hallway, as that was all the space would allow, before taking a left and leading me into what I assumed was the living room.

“Um… Take a seat. I’ll only be a minute.” He gestured to what looked like a sofa which seemed to be acting as someone’s makeshift bed. Pillows and blankets littered the cramped space, surely lying on this wouldn’t result in a restful night. I perched myself on the edge, conscious to not ruffle the blankets anymore than they were, and watched as Harry weaved out of the room.

“Harry, love.” A badly attempted falsetto voice echoed from the hall behind me matched with thundering footfalls down the stairs. “Where’s my snuggle-bums?” I couldn’t help but snicker, both at the wretched pet name and the horrible attempt this person was doing at a feminine voice. I twisted around to face the doorway, anticipating the culprit was about to enter the room.

“Put on a pot of te– Oh shite.” He completely dropped the falsetto, a deep Irish accent shining through. “I… Uh– Oh god…” He stuttered, his eyes frantically darting around the room. It was only then that I realised that he was only in a pair of grey pants that really left not much to the imagination. I whirled back around in an attempt to save us both some embarrassment.

“Got it Fin– Niall! What the fuck?” My head now snapped to my right to see Harry holding his wallet, his eyes wide.

“Jesus Harry, aren’t ya supposed to leave a sock on the door or summat. A bit of fair warning would be nice.” The half-naked boy, Niall I surmised, spoke. I peeked behind me again to see he had grabbed a Derby County Football Team flag that I had earlier seen in the corner and draped it over himself.

Harry shook his head, still in disbelief at his friend’s dramatic arrival. “On what door? I sleep in a bloody living room.”

“I would’ve gladly leant you my room for the night! I mean, props to you for making it work on that box of a sofa.”

I felt my face redden at what Niall was insinuating.

“Oh my…. Jesus, just shut up for once Niall.” Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is Finley, the girl from the blind date last night.”

“Ohhhh… Well even more props to you. Meet a complete stranger and–”

“No! God, we both went home last night to our own beds. Alone. Nothing happened.”

Niall narrowed his eyes, looking back and forth between us. “Riiiiiiight…”

Harry sighed, rubbing his face. I could just make out a string of curses being muttered under his breath.

I stood from the sofa, or Harry’s bed apparently, and turned to Niall. “Believe what you want Niall, but Harry really did come home alone last night. Half-sloshed, yes, but alone.”

Niall assessed me with scrutinising eyes before breaking open into a toothy grin. “Well, it was about time the sorry sod got plastered. I thank you for your services… Finley was it?”

I laughed. “Fin is fine.”

“Good to hear. Now if you excuse me, I need food.” He turned and scuttled past Harry who still wore a look of annoyance.

“That,” Harry gestured to the kitchen, “is one of my roommates, Niall. Hopefully the other isn’t going to make a half-naked appearance as well.” Harry began to make his way to the front door, I followed suit.

“Lively fellow.” I commented as he pulled open the front door.

“You should see him after he’s had his morning cuppa.”

* * * *

Harry and I finally made it to the cafe, and despite his protests I did pay for his brunch. We sat outside, both of us enjoying the Saturday sunshine knowing that in a matter of weeks this wouldn’t be feasible anymore.

“Chai latte?” A waitress appeared at our tableside. I jutted my hand up as she skillfully lowered the full cup whilst keeping the other steady. “And a flat white.” Harry beamed up at her and I noticed her cheeks become slightly rosy. “Food will be out in a tick.”

Harry took a long sip from his cup, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips. “Well, now that there is some caffeine in my body we can get down to business.”

“Ah, yes.”

He pulled out his phone. “So, I have some guys in mind for you. But I feel I need to ask some questions first.”

I laughed. “Don’t tell me you’re pulling up a Buzzfeed personality quiz. What ice-cream flavour are you? Which Friends character is you AF? Tell us your McDonald’s order and we’ll reveal if you’ll die alone!”

“Vanilla with sprinkles. Definitely Chandler. And a Big Mac, large fries with Big Mac sauce on the side for dipping. Hopefully that means I won’t be forever alone.” He turned his phone towards me. “I’m actually looking through my Facebook friends list. Now tell me some definite do’s or don’ts for guys.”

I took a sip of my latte, mulling over his request. Do I even have any? I mean, sure, I don’t want to date a self-absorbed prat but I feel that’s on every persons don’t list. “I guess… Just a good guy? Funny, interesting, able to hold a conversation?”

Harry barked out a laugh. “Should I add ‘has the ability to breathe’ on the list as well?”

“Oh shut up, I don’t know what I’m supposed to say!”

Before Harry could respond the waitress returned, placing a plate of scrambled eggs on toast in front of me and a stack of pancakes in front of Harry. I immediately dug in, secretly hoping Harry would be distracted by his food to drop the subject.

“Well,” clearly food did not deter the man, “Are you interested in finding someone for the long run or more of a casual thing?”

I chewed slowly, not even sure of the answer. “I suppose… long run.”

He nodded, scrolling again through his friends list and shoving a piece of pancake into his mouth. “I’ll wrangle up something,” he spoke with a mouth full.

“Alright, that’s enough about me. The main reason for this is you. What can I do to help?”

Harry’s turn to chew slowly and ponder. “Talk to her, I guess?”

“Well I’m not just going to bloody walk up to her randomly and say ‘Hi Isabel, you should get back together with Harry’. We need a proper plan.”

“Add her on Facebook?”

I stared at Harry incredulously. “Facebook?! Honestly, that’s even worse than just finding her one day and talking to her! We need a good, non-suspicious environment.”

Harry furrowed his brows. “I could… Invite her over?”

“No, that would be weird. It has to be a group context. Do you have any events coming up that she would be going to? A party? Or a get together?”

Harry dropped his fork and lunged for his phone. “Yes!” He frantically typed away before turning the screen to me again. It displayed a Facebook event for a birthday for someone by the name of Mark. “I wasn’t planning on going, haven’t really seen the bloke much since Isabel and I broke up. He was more in her circle of friends.”

“This could be perfect! Does it say she’s attending?”

“Uhhhh… Yes! And I’m sure Mark would be cool with me bringing a plus one or two! There’s already 23 people attending, another couple of people isn’t going to make a difference. I’ll shoot him a message.”

I smiled. Harry’s enthusiasm was almost contagious. “Great. And it’s…”

“Next Saturday night.”

“Perfect.” I raised my lukewarm latte. “To getting your girl back.”

Harry smiled, mirroring my actions. “To getting you a date.”

I laughed, clinking my cup with his and draining the last of my beverage. I guess this is officially happening.


	5. The Actual Family Dinner

“And what did he say?”

“Well after calling me daft he looked over my numbers and realised I hadn’t been talking out of my arse the whole time. So, as I knew, I was right and we’re following my idea.”

“As he should’ve done days ago.”

“Precisely!”

I laughed as Margot continued on to explain this weeks drama that her boss had created for her. Margot, my best friend of almost six years now, is one of the most self-righteous people I know but nine times out of ten, she is actually right. 

It was ritual for us to debrief our work week on a Friday evening. ‘The perfect way to decompress’ she claimed a few months after we had graduated uni and had been barely keeping up in the real, adult world of full time work. And while we did see each other most weekends, we liked to keep work out of it in order to fully relax. So, here I was, phone cradled to my ear listening to Margot ‘decompress’ away. 

Normally I was tucked away in my room during these conversations, but tonight I found myself in the back of an Uber on the way to my parent’s house for family dinner. An actual family dinner this time. I had been promised no surprise blind date. It was only a half-hour drive from home so I knew it would be the perfect chance to catch up with Margot.

“Anyways, we have well established by now that my boss is a bit of a cock. Any news on your front? How’s HR life?”

“Same old.” I glanced out the window, noticing that I was almost at my destination. “I’m taking on some recruitment responsibilities which could be exciting.”

“My girl is moving on up in the world.” She laughed. “Oh hey, I saw that new dumpling place has finally opened in Whitechapel. Wanna grab dinner there tomorrow night?”

My Uber rolled to a stop outside my parents home. I thanked the driver before sliding out. “Saturday?”

“Yes, Saturday. That is the tomorrow I am referring to.”

“Umm…” I stalled. Tomorrow I was supposed to be seeing Harry for that party. I definitely had not mentioned Harry, the blind date or our grand plan to Margot. She would definitely start to psychoanalyse every word and action I would make in relation to this whole thing. 

“Hello… Finley? Are you still alive over there?”

“Uh— Sorry, I just got to my parents, hold on.” I feigned distraction, well sort of. I was just about to pull my keys out when the front door burst open. 

“Fin!”

“Jesus mum. Were you waiting at the door for me?” I didn’t even have a chance to pull my phone away as my mother had already wrapped me in a tight hug. 

“Oh, is that Barb I hear? Tell her I said hi!” Margot chirped in my ear. 

“I’ll try to,” I choked out, “when she bloody lets go.”

My mum pulled away, but still held me at arms length. “What was that?”

“Margot,” I pointed at my phone still held to my ear.  “I was in the middle of a conversation before you attacked me.” 

“Oh, tell her I said hi!”

“I’m sure she can hear you.”

“Hi Margot!” Mum yelled. 

Margot laughed. “Yep, I can definitely hear her.”

“Just give me a sec, Go.” I followed mum into the house, the smell of a roast dinner immediately greeting me. 

“Finny! I thought I heard you.” My dad thundered down the stairs, pulling me in for a one-armed hug.

“Hey, dad. I’ll catch up with you in a minute, yeah?”

“She was in the middle of a conversation before I supposedly attacked her.” Mum filled in. 

“Righto.” He laughed.

“Archie and Abbi are in the living room when you’re done.”

“Alright, I won’t be long.” I squeezed past my parents, longing for the solace and silence of my old bedroom upstairs.

I was almost halfway up the stairs when my mum called out.“Oh Fin, before I forget! How was your date last week?”

My eyes immediately widened and I stopped mid-step. I turned to face my mother, phone clamped to my ear. _Please, please, please Margot don’t hear this_.

“With Harry?”

I thrust my phone against my chest hoping my coat would muffle any other bits of gossip from mum. “Not. Now.” I said through clenched teeth.

Mum raised her hands as though she was so innocent in all of this. “We’ll discuss over dinner then.” She walked down the hall to the kitchen.

It took all my self-control to not yell in frustration. I quickly bounded up to my room, slamming the door behind me like I was 15-years-old again. I collapsed onto my old twin bed, checking my phone to see if the call was still connected.

“Good god, I’m sorry,” I sighed into my phone. “My mum can be a bit of a knob at times. Hopefully you didn’t hear that rubbish she was barking on about.”

Margot laughed. “It’s all good. Didn’t hear much, I could practically feel your rage through the phone though.”

Internally, I let out the biggest sigh of relief.

“I did, however, hear something about a date. With a certain person called Harry was it?”

Oh god.

“Finley O’Connor, who have you been shagging and why have I not been informed? I’m your best friend for christ sakes!”

“I am going to kill my mother.”

“Yeah, yeah, kill her after. You need to fill me in. Right now!”

I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed my forehead with my free hand, wishing I didn’t have to explain this whole Harry thing. Was it even a thing? Of course, to everyone else but me it’s a thing. I’m Finley, always single. Always brushing off dates. Always content to be alone, supposedly. So news of me going on a date is going to be huge to Margot.

“Okay, I wasn’t going to tell you because it was a one time thing. Mum set me up on a bloody blind date with this guy, Harry, and that’s it. He was nice and all but he’s still hung up on his ex. So yeah, nothing earth-shattering. I am still single.”

Margot was silent. I chewed my lip, mentally preparing for the ‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell me, I’m your best friend’ speech.

“So you’re telling me,” she finally spoke, “that you went on a blind date?”

I sighed. “Yes.”

“And this whole time… I could’ve been setting you up on dates?! Fin, holy fuck! Why didn’t you tell me this was something you were down for? Do you know how many men I have come across in my time that would’ve been perfect for you!”

“Wh–”

“I mean, I always thought you considered blind dates your own personal brand of hell but you’ve clearly been holding out on me this whole time!”

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down. Could you not hear the tone of utter contempt in my voice? Do you really think me, Fin, would enjoy being forced to make small talk with some complete stranger whilst simultaneously being alluring and flirty? You’re not wrong, they are my own personal brand of hell.”

“Well then why hide this mystery date from me?”

I sat up, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I just,” I exhaled sharply, “I didn’t want to make a big deal. It was some dumb thing my mum thought would be a good idea and nothing came from it so I didn’t see the need of filling you in about it.”

“Um, Finley, any time you’re with a person and you have a slight chance of seeing them naked then I need to know.”

I laughed. “I feel like that could be said about any person I see. People aren’t so ashamed of the human body these days.”

“Oh, you know what I mean!”

I chuckled before clearing my throat. “Look, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to withhold information. You know I tell you everything.” 

“Yeah, literally everything. Sometimes I really don’t want to know about the heaviness of your period,” she laughed.

“Hey, that was one time. And I thought there might be something wrong with the amount of blood that was literally pouring out of me.”

“Well next time ask someone else for medical advice.”

I could hear the clatter of plates and the clinks of cutlery coming from downstairs. I knew I was about to be summoned for dinner. “Look, I gotta go. Dinner is about to be dished up.”

“All good.”

“Alright, thanks Go. I’ll talk to you later.” I stood up from my bed and went to open my bedroom door.

“Oh! Wait, dinner tomorrow yeah?”

I froze, hand on the doorknob. Shit. I was hoping she would have forgotten about that proposition. “Um… I actually have plans already…”

“What? With who? Do you have a secret best friend as well? Is that who you’ve been talking to about all your blind dates?”

I knew I couldn’t  hide this from her. I wish I could, but her finding out later could be disastrous. I’m not potentially risking our friendship. “I’m actually seeing Harry… Not for a date! It’s complicated. Just a friend thing. It’s a party. Look I’ll explain later, okay?”

“Wh– What?! This Harry character again?”

“Not a date, I promise!”

“Finley, dinner!” I heard my dad’s voice call.

“I really have to go.”

“We are meeting on Sunday, clearly you have a lot you need to fill me in on,” she said in an accusatory tone.

“Yes, yes! Sounds perfect.” I hoped agreeing would win back some best friend points.

“Alright, go eat your dinner. Love you.”

I smiled, happy that she wasn’t completely pissed at me. “Thanks Margot. Love you.” I clicked my phone off before quickly making my way downstairs and into the kitchen.

****

Roast chicken, crispy baked potatoes, buttery peas with little flecks of bacon, velvety smooth gravy: Barbara O’Connor had really gone all out for this Friday night family dinner. And I knew it was because she did actually hold some guilt for the ruse she had pulled on me the previous Friday night. But I wasn’t complaining if it meant I got to eat some of my favourite food that my mum makes.

“Potatoes are so good mum,” Archie praised with a mouth full of said potatoes.

“Ugh, gross Arch. Swallow your food you caveman,” I teased.

In response, Archie opened his mouth as wide as he could showing myself and the rest of the table all his half-chewed potato glory.

“Archie!” My mum chastised. “How old are you again?”

“Old enough to get married,” he beamed looking over to Abbi.

“If you ever do that again I am taking this ring off.”

I cackled, loving that Abbi took no shit from my sometimes idiotic brother. She was going to make the best sister-in-law.

“The food is really good though, Barb.” Abbi praised.

“Yeah, mum. You should set Fin up on more blind dates so we can have more of your guilt cooking.”

“Wh— Can’t a mother make a lovely dinner for her family just because she wants to?”

“No,” Archie, Abbi and I chimed in. 

“They do have a point,” dad agreed. 

We all laughed, my mum instead taking another helping of peas rather than acknowledging that her family has practically called out her shenanigans. 

“It is really good though, thanks mum,” I added. Even though she can be the biggest pain in my arse, she did do everything out of love. 

“How was the date anyways Fin?” My brother questioned, sans mouth full of food this time. 

I shrugged noncommittally, not wanting to get into it any further. I pretended to be extremely focused on cutting up my chicken, hoping this conversation would die out. 

“He was bloody good looking at least,” Abbi said with a smirk. 

“Oi,” Archie grumbled. 

“Your mum showed me a picture,” she went on to explain as I clearly had some look of confusion on my face.

“Yes he was quite darling ,” mum added. “Lovely eyes.”

“He did, didn’t he! And that smile, so dashing.” For sure Abbi was just taking the piss now. 

“Oi!” My brother exclaimed again. “I have lovely eyes, and a very dashing smile.”

Abbi laughed. “Of course you do Arch. I’m just pointing out that on paper he seemed like a good match for Fin. So, what happened? Was he actually a tosser in person?”

I took a bite of my dinner and chewed slowly, carefully contemplating my words. “No… He was nice. He just got out of a pretty long term relationship though so I don’t think he’s prepared to jump into another. He’s a good bloke, just not the right time.”

Mum frowned. “That’s a shame. All well, you’ll find someone soon Fin and settle down.”

I couldn’t help but clench my hands around my cutlery as I processed my mother’s words. Thankfully the conversation immediately took off in another direction, leaving this whole Harry business to the wayside, and no one saw my involuntary reaction.

 It was the same feeling I had every time mum, or anyone for that matter, brought up me dating or having a boyfriend. Annoyance? Sadness? Anger? Unease? I can’t pinpoint it. I’ve just noticed the increase of questions and queries people have for me surrounding the topic these last few years. It’s as if these people think the older I get and the more single I stay, the likeness of me spending my whole life alone increases. 

In all honesty, it really doesn’t bug me. I am happy with my life. But people bugging me about it, that’s a different story. I’m not saying I’m an ultra-man-hating-feminist who doesn’t believe in falling in love, but if a relationship is going to happen then it’s going to happen. 

Internally I sighed, already sick of the mental loop of thoughts I was having. I knew that things with Harry obviously didn’t have that romantic end that clearly my mother was hoping for, but now a small part of me is hoping that he can help quell this feeling that I have and, to some extent, my mum’s worries. And I hope, for his sake, I can seriously help him too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel free to let me know your thoughts here or over on my [tumblr](https://midnghtcities.tumblr.com/)!


	6. The First (And Half Coincidental) Encounter

It was 6:13pm. I needed to be out of the flat by 6:47pm at the absolute latest if I had any chance of making it to East Croydon station in order to catch the tube up to Watford and then Uber it over to Harry’s by 8pm. And yet here I was, at 6:14pm now, standing in front of my full length mirror mentally debating over whether I should go for classic black skinnys or pull out an old, barely there dress I used to wear back when clubbing was something I pretended to enjoy.

The party tonight, which is more of a gathering of friends rather than a full blown party like I originally thought, is at a bar in north-east London called Ruby’s. Logistically it did make sense to make my own way to the bar, it was just under an hour trip from here. But there was no way I was showing up there alone, not knowing anyone. Hence why I had insisted to Harry that I would meet him at his place before backtracking to the bar together. Either way, this tight timeline I had created was my own fault and I really didn’t feel any more confident in a decision as to what I should wear.

Just as I was about to tear off the bottle green jumper I had for some reason thought would look cute (it really didn’t at this current moment), my phone buzzed over on my bedside table. I quickly walked over to see it was a message from my roommate:

_ALICE: Can you come out, need to talk to you for a minute._

Alice wasn’t one to holler across the flat when she needed my attention so messages like this were a regular occurrence. I threw my phone down onto my bed in a huff, really not needing this distraction on an already tight timeline.

She was seated at the dining table, a cookbook propped open along with her laptop. Her hair, in a perfect braid, was tossed over her shoulder and she had a look of complete concentration on her face.

“Hey, what’s up?” I questioned causing her to break trance and look up at me.

“How do you feel about risotto?”

“Um, it’s fine?”

“Excellent, I’m thinking of making it for Monday night. And I might do some chicken on Wednesday.” Alice and I had agreed to share cooking duties throughout the week seeing as we were almost always home together at night. Alice always planned her meals in advance whereas I would quickly scrounge up something based on what we had in the fridge. She never seemed to mind though. “Wait, you mentioned you had chicken last night at your mums. I can do something else then.” She started flicking through the cookbook.

I shook my head. “No, no. I don’t mind. Look was that all? I’m kind of in a rush.”

She looked over at me again as though she just realised I was halfway through getting ready for a night out, as if the semi-waved hair and mascara I haphazardly brushed on wasn’t a dead giveaway that I wasn’t planning on a Saturday night in. “Do you… have a date?”

I laughed. “Alice, in the past 5 months have I ever once mentioned going on a date?”

She shrugged. “Might be something you want to keep private, I don’t know.”

She did have a point, we didn’t really talk personal lives much. “Well no, I’m not going on a date. Just to a bar with some friends.”

“You’re not wearing that I hope.”

“Honest as always Alice,” I grumbled. “I was in the middle of choosing something before you summoned me out here.”

Alice turned her attention back to her laptop, clearly she was rapidly losing interest. I was about to turn and march back to my room when she piped up again. “Wear your navy off-the-shoulder top, it’s a good contrast to your hair.”

I froze in my tracks. “Um… Thanks.”

She showed no response, already immersed back in her meal planning. I walked back down the hallway and into my room, immediately going to my cupboard to pull out the aforementioned top. I tossed the jumper on my bed, changed into a strapless bra and slipped on the navy top. Well, I’ll be damned. Despite her sometimes frustrating idiosyncrasies, Alice can actually be helpful. She was right about the colour making my auburn hair stand out, and the long bell sleeves gave an air that I’m someone who always has my shit together (which I rarely do, to be quite frank).

It was almost 6:30pm at this point, so I hastily twisted some locks of hair with my straightener again to make a few more defined waves, swiped on some nude lipstick and shoved my feet into a pair of black, strappy heels.

“Alright, I’m off,” I tottered out of my room and back to where Alice was situated who was still in the same position from when I left her.

“Don’t forget your house keys, I am not waking up to let you in.”

I grabbed them from the designated key dish near the front door and shoved them in my purse. A quick glance confirmed that I had my bank card, ID, some loose cash and my phone already stashed in there. “Have a good night Alice.”

She waved me farewell not even breaking eye contact from her computer screen. I couldn’t help but laugh as I locked the door behind me.

****

Well, I had done pretty well. Despite leaving the flat only seven minutes over my self-imposed deadline I had made it to Harry’s place barely after 8 (8:04pm to be exact). I rapped my knuckles against the front door, tightening my leather jacket around my torso. The late October chill was well and truly here.

A few seconds passed before I heard the scraping of the lock and the door swung open. “Fin!” Harry beamed. He gave me a quick one armed hug as I mumbled greetings into his chest. “You look great,” he complimented as he unwrapped his arm and let me step inside.

“Thanks, and you look…” I glanced over his chosen outfit of grey sweatpants and a black hoodie, “extremely casual. Oh god, I think I’m too overdressed.” I suddenly felt self-conscious of my skin-tight jeans and teetering heels.

He barked out a laugh as he lead me down the hall and into the living room (or his bedroom really). “I’m not sure if I should be offended that you think I would wear this out.” He flopped down onto the sofa/bed and I followed suit. “Niall has literally holed himself up in the bathroom for the past hour so I haven’t even had a chance to get ready.”

“I guess we’re gonna be late then, aren’t we supposed to arrive at 9?”

Harry shrugged. “Pretty sure most people wouldn’t be showin’ up until after 10 anyways.”

“Right, of course. As you can tell it’s been a while since I’ve been out,” I let out a nervous laugh. “I’m so used to being berated by my mum for being even a few seconds late to something.”

Harry chuckled knowingly, clearly our mothers shared similar personality types. “Niall and Louis are tagging along too, by the way. They’ll take any excuse for a night out really.”

“Louis?”

“My other roommate.”

As if on a pre-rehearsed cue, a boy, who I could only assume was the roommate Harry was alluding to, walked into the living room, a beer in one hand and a bowl in the other.

“Someone talking about me in here?” He shoved himself on the sofa between Harry and I. First impressions: he has utterly no regard for personal space. And he apparently thinks beer and Coco Pops are a good combination.

“Yeah just filling Fin in on what an absolute tosser you are,” Harry chided, digging his elbow into Louis’ side before stealing a swig of his beer.

I awkwardly shuffled over, giving myself some space. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too, Fin. You’ve been the talk of the house this past week. Mainly because you suffered a close call with Niall’s knob and somehow still willingly chose to come back here.”

“I have definitely had far worse experiences when it comes to a man’s penis.”

Louis let out a wheeze and Harry almost choked on the beer that he was in the middle of sipping.

“You are going to fit in great around here, Fin.”

I smiled, feeling that small ball of nerves that I didn’t even really know I was carrying dissolve.

“Well speaking of knobs, I better go and bash the bathroom door down. Should be ready in about 20 guys.” Harry pulled himself up off the sofa and sauntered out of the room.

Louis continued to shovel down his cereal, taking swigs of beer every couple of mouthfuls. I felt the vibration of my phone through my clutch. Pulling it out I saw a message from Margot:

_MARGOT: how’s the ‘totally not a date just a friend thing’ going?_

I quietly exhaled a chuckle, slipping my phone back into my bag. Margot can wait until tomorrow for the full explanation.

“So…” I attempted to break the silence, “how long have you known Harry for?”

“Mmmm… About 6 years? We met at our old part time job. We used to stack shelves at our local Tesco.” He scooped up the last spoonful of Coco Pops.

“Oh, nice!”

“Yeah, been through a lot together. Same with Niall; we met him at uni.” Louis leaned back into the sofa, his eyes drifting upwards as if his mind was being clouded by memories.

“It was good of you to take him in… After what happened with the break up.” I sneaked a glance at Louis, unsure if I was treading into unwarranted territory. I didn’t want him to think I was trying to pry, I was merely trying to gain some intel in order to help with tonight’s true mission.

“Well, he promised he was going to bring the PS4 so how could I say no to him moving in.”

I chuckled before Louis turned to me, his eyes suddenly serious.

“Honestly,” his voice had dropped in volume as though he was worried Harry might overhear, “he was a bloody mess after that whole ordeal. I mean he wasn’t a blubbering heap, in fact I don’t think I ever saw him cry over it, but he was just… not Harry for a very long time. Didn’t hear him laugh for who knows how long…”

My skin prickled with the harsh truths Louis was laying out for me.

“He’s been better though. The Harry I knew 6 years ago is starting to show again.”

I nodded slowly, chewing the inside of my cheek as I attempted to digest what Louis had shared.

Louis drained the last drop of his beer, placing the empty bottle on the floor near his foot. “She’s going to be there tonight, y’know?”

“Oh… yeah. Harry did mention that.”

“He’ll handle it fine, I’m sure. I wanted to be there for some moral support incase though.”

“You’re a good friend, Louis.”

He smiled, shaking his head. “I know Harry would do the exact same thing for me.”

“Did you like her? Isabel, I mean.”

Louis pressed his lips together, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as if he was weighing his words very carefully. He opened his mouth to answer but before he could get a word out, another conversation floated in from down the hall. Harry and Niall.

Louis and I turned towards to door. The two boys walked in, both looking more appropriately dressed for a night out in London.

“Fin, lovely to see you again m’dear.” Niall lilted.

“You too. Being fully clothed suits you well.”

Both Louis and Harry snickered, Niall looking almost offended.

“Alright then,” Harry clapped his hands together before Niall could retort, “shall we get going?”

****

Niall couldn’t find his Oyster card. Louis insisted that there was no point in even searching for it seeing as the original carpeted floor of Niall’s room couldn’t even be seen anymore due to the ‘amount of crap he hoarded’; Louis’ words not mine. And I honestly thought the boys were going to break out into a scuffle when the idea of a designated driver was presented. So the only seemingly sensible option was to split a £40 Uber.

We finally made it to Ruby’s just after 9:30pm. We were able to quickly slip inside, all of us grateful to get out of the chill. Immediately, I could feel the familiar thump of the bass and hear the rowdiness that comes with a Saturday night crowd. The boys pushed ahead, looking as though they were already familiar with the place.

My eyes finally adjusted to the dim, red-hued lighting. I could make out the bar, lining the left side of the room. Groups of people milled about, some dancing where they stood others trying to hold conversations above the rising noise levels. Horseshoe booths encircled the other three walls, with some standing bar tables scattered around. Overall, the bar had an almost vintage aura; with the mahogany bar top, velvet seats and mismatched wallpaper covering the walls. I actually didn’t feel completely out of place in here.

“Fin, this way!” I hadn’t even noticed that I had stopped in my tracks as I was quietly observing my surroundings. Harry broke my trance by grabbing my hand and pulling me through the throngs of people. “Mark mentioned that he had reserved a couple booths, looks like he’s got them in the back corner.” Harry had to twist around and slightly lean close so that I had any chance of making out what he was saying. I just nodded, letting him guide me.

We pushed through the last group of patrons and were met with a chorus of cheers. Harry was suddenly enveloped by a bunch of people, each of them seeming absolutely thrilled that he was here. Harry had let go of my hand in the sudden attack of affection so I stood to the side and watched on. Harry beamed, clapping his friends on the back and making his rounds to say hello to everyone. Clearly it had been quite some time since he had seen this group of friends.

Niall and Louis appeared, both already holding a beer each. They greeted and showed some recognition to the people seated and standing around the booths but they definitely weren’t met with the same enthusiasm that Harry had received.

“Quite a popular lad, isn’t he?” Louis had joined me, offering me a sip of his beer which I accepted.

“I’m almost not surprised.”

“To be fair, he hasn’t seen most of this lot since last year.”

I watched on as Harry was completely rapt in a conversation, his boisterous laugh even rising above the din of conversation and thump of the music. Charisma and confidence oozed out of him. This was it: this was Harry in his prime. I almost felt like I should be taking notes, an expert working in his field.

I had to tear my eyes away. “I’m going to get a drink, want a top up?” I nodded to Louis’ already almost drained beer.

“I’ll shout your next one.”

I made my way back towards the bar, hoping to find a spot where I could be easily noticed by one of the bartenders. I slotted myself in between a girl who looked like she really shouldn’t be ordering anymore alcohol (I think if the bar wasn’t there to hold her up she would be on the floor) and a guy who was already nursing a drink. I pulled out my bank card, hoping the workers would notice my eagerness to get some drinks.

“So, you here for Mark?”

I almost jumped out of my skin when an unexpected and unknown voice filtered into my ear. I turned to my left and met the gaze of the boy next to me. His glassy, dark eyes stared expectantly whilst my mouth simultaneously went dry. _Bloody hell, he was attractive._

The boy chuckled, and for a split second I thought I had spoken my thoughts aloud. No, it was my clear awkwardness that he found amusing. I continued staring as he drained the last of his drink, raising his hand and immediately attracting the attention of a bartender. Why didn’t I have that instant luck?

“Another rum and coke,” he rasped, “and whatever she’s having.”

“Oh… Uhh–” I had finally found my voice. “I’m ordering for friends too so it’s alright. Thank you for offering though.”

“For Harry, right?”

I raised my eyebrows.

“Saw youse walk in together. It’s all good, order away.”

My mouth opened and closed twice before I snapped my head to the bartender who had already made the boy’s drink but was clearly waiting for me to spit out my request. “J-Just a gin and tonic… And two beers.” The bartender turned and began mixing my drink.

“I’m Zayn, by the way,” the boy addressed me again.

“Finley.”

“I do actually know Harry, by the way. Not some stalker,” he quipped.

I breathed out a laugh, feeling some of the earlier awkwardness dissipate. “I am here for Mark, to answer your first question. I have no idea who he is though, Harry brought me as a plus one. I only know like three people here.”

“Eh, he probably has his head pressed up against some poor woman’s breasts. You’re not missing out on much with that one.” Zayn took out his wallet and passed a couple notes to the bartender, I hadn’t even noticed he had delivered my drinks.

“You really didn’t have to pay…”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Easiest way to make new friends is through buying them drinks.”

“Well… Thank you.” I tucked my clutch under my arm and gathered the drinks.

“Hopefully I’ll see you around later on.”

“Uh yeah, sure.”

He raised his glass as if he was sending me off with a toast, “Finley…”

My name rolled off his tongue like honey, making my skin tingle. My cheeks felt hot. _Oh god, am I blushing right now?!_ I haphazardly grabbed the drinks, a splash of my own spilling out in the process, and turned away quickly before Zayn could get another intoxicating word in. I made my way back to the group, choosing this time to stick to the edges of the room, not wanting to risk spilling any more of the drinks.

Louis saw me approaching and graciously took a bottle from my hand. He thanked me before stating that he was going to find where Niall had wandered off to. I scanned to find Harry, it looked like he had moved on from the group of people that he was chatting to when I left. It didn’t take me long to spot his distinct crop of curls. I approached him, tapping his back with the lip of the beer bottle.

He spun around and I held the bottle up to him. “Oh Fin, you’re a bloody legend.” He took the beer and drunk deeply from it, knocking back almost half.

“Don’t thank me, thank your buddy Zayn.”

His eyebrows knitted together.

“He was next to me at the bar, said he knew you?” I turned around, craning my neck to see if the dark-haired boy had moved. He hadn’t moved. In fact, he was looking directly at me. I felt my cheeks flush and I quickly whirled back around to Harry, my heart suddenly pounding.

Harry had followed my earlier gaze and noticed Zayn. He gave a wave and mouthed ‘thanks’. “Damn, haven’t seen Zayn in years,” he redirected his eyes back to me. “I’m surprised he still remembers me. He had some classes with Isabel, only met him a handful of times.”

“Well, he seems… nice.”

Harry nodded, taking another swig of his beer.

“Speaking of, have you noticed Isabel yet?”

I watched as his eyes quickly darted around, no signs of recognition showing. “Maybe she won’t show.”

“It’s still early,” I placed a reassuring hand on Harry’s arm. “Don’t give up any hope yet.”

He grinned, throwing his own arm around my shoulders. “Come, I’ll introduce you to some people.”

****

I don’t consider myself that much of a drinker, only really indulging during social occasions. And yet, under Harry and Louis’ guidance (well, coaxing really), I was four and a half drinks deep and we had only been at the bar for just over 2 hours. I was still holding myself together remarkably well, my words hadn’t begun to jumble into each other and the room only tilted funny if I turned my head too fast.

Zayn had found me again, as he hoped. My alcohol-fueled confidence allowed me to hold a fairly decent conversation, sans red cheeks, but I did slink away after a few minutes not wanting to risk anything with some embarrassing slip of the tongue.

Currently, though, I was holed up in a cubicle in the girl’s bathroom. Once I’m past that third drink the flood gates open for me. This was my second trip in the past 40 minutes. I was putting all my focus into pulling my skin tight pants up whilst simultaneously trying to balance on my heels and not fall arse first back into the toilet bowl.

As soon as I was decent, I slightly stumbled out of the cubicle and came face to face with myself in the bathroom mirror. The same dreamy, red-hue that filled the bar illuminated the bathroom. But despite this I could still make out the smudges of mascara under my eyes and the fact that the waves that I had attempted to style into my hair had gone completely limp. I frowned as I washed my hands, using my wet thumb to wipe away some of the dark residue under my eyes. My hair was just going to have to stay I guess.

I was so focused on my drab appearance that I didn’t even notice the girl stationed next to me, expertly reapplying a layer of liquid lipstick. My eyes drifted to her as I rinsed the last of the soap on my hands away. I felt myself becoming mesmerised as I watched her swipe the deep plum colour across her lips. Her hair, with the perfect amount of golden highlights, was curled flawlessly and tumbled down her back. The black slip dress she wore looked tailor made, almost as if it was a second skin.

She shifted. My eyes rose and noticed her reflection gazing back at me. Jesus, I’ve been staring at this poor girl like a madwoman. I flashed an awkward grin. “Sorry, just admiring your lip colour.”

“Thanks…” She gave a slightly forced smile before turning her attention back to the mirror.

I was about to leg it out of the room, sopping wet hands and everything, when it struck me. I know this girl. “Wait… Isabel?”

This time she turned completely to face me. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” I couldn’t blame her for the standoffish vibe she was radiating; some random girl staring at you in the bathroom of a bar now suddenly knows your name? I would’ve already left the premises if the situation were reversed.

“God, sorry, this is so weird. I know Harry. He’s… uh… told me about you?”

Her icy exterior suddenly melted. “Oh… Are you Harry’s girlfriend? Mark mentioned he saw Harry arrive with a girl.”

“Girlfriend?“ I laughed. “No, definitely not. Just a friend. Well, we went on one date and it was practically a disaster. I mean, not because he’s a bad date to have… Just the circumstances and the timing I suppose…” I forced myself to trail off. The drunken, nervous babbling was really just becoming ridiculous now.

Despite the complete word barrage, Isabel still let out a chuckle.

“I’m Finley, by the way. Or Fin. Whatever you prefer to call me.”

She turned back to the mirror and checked her makeup one last time before slipping the lipstick back into her bag. “Good to meet you. It’s nice to see Harry out, haven’t seen him in… Well, too long.” She gave me a sad smile. “Has he been doing okay?”

“He’s… getting better. According to Louis anyways.”

She nodded slowly, I could tell she was on the brink of becoming consumed with her own thoughts. This was my chance to work some magic, put the plan into motion. It was the first contact, so it needed to be as innocent and pain-free as possible. I really don’t want to fuck this up immediately.

“You should say hi, I know he would appreciate it. I don’t think he would have the balls to do it himself.”

Isabel chewed her bottom lip, contemplating my idea. “I just don’t want to make things any more awkward between us. The last time we tried to reconnect ended terribly.”

“Don’t stress! I can come with, keep the conversation flowing. Or bail you out if things feel uncomfortable?”

“You would do that?”

I shrugged, trying to keep my face as neutral as possible and not let the impending excitement that this might actually work show. “No big deal. Plus it means I don’t have to stand awkwardly to the side of the room anymore because I don’t know anyone.”

She gathered her hair up and pulled it over her right shoulder, readjusted her dress and faced me with a shine of apprehension in her eye. “Alright then, let’s go.”

Oh boy, I hope Harry is ready for this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel free to let me know your thoughts here or over on my [tumblr](https://midnghtcities.tumblr.com/)!


	7. The Unexpected Meeting

Okay. Stay calm. This is no big deal. Just keeping walking straight and steady. Wait,  _ are my hands shaking right now? _ God, why am I even nervous? I’m not the one about to be ambushed by my ex and a girl who is trying to help me get back together with said ex.

I could feel that Isabel was close behind me, obviously not wanting to risk getting separated in the crowd. I was only in the loo for ten minutes but it looked like the number of people in the bar had doubled. It’s feeling like the longer the night goes on the more this place descends towards a nightclub. The red hues were the perfect cover for wandering hands and furtive glances, the steady beat of the music paired with the constant flow of alcohol provided the courage some people needed to pursue something that they normally wouldn’t. For me though, the beat only mirrored my rising heart rate and my four and a half drinks was making my head swirl with increasingly incoherent thoughts.

My eyes darted from left to right, trying to see if I could identify anyone familiar in the bustling crowd. I was beginning to think that maybe the guys had decided to bail. No, they would never… I think?

As I was about to turn and voice my concerns to Isabel, an arm shot out and stopped me from walking any further. It was Louis. “Oh, thank god! I’ve been looking for… Well anyone I actually knew.”

“Where have you been?” He questioned, leaning close so I could actually hear what he was saying over the thud of the music. “It’s my turn for the next round, was trying to find you to see if you were down for another drink.”

Bloody hell, the last thing I need right now is more alcohol precariously sloshing around in my stomach. “Um, I think I’ll skip this round. Have you seen Harry though?”

Louis began to crane his neck in order to find Harry, but he spotted who was standing behind me first. “Isabel?”

The relief of finding Louis had almost made me forget she was there. I glanced over my shoulder to see that she was still standing behind me, a pleasant smile on her face as she stepped forward to properly greet Louis. My mind flitted back to Louis’ somewhat strained reaction when I mentioned Isabel earlier at the house. He hid any bitter feelings he might have well though as he gave her a quick hug and engaged in the usual pleasantries.

“Anyways,” Louis addressed me once again, “last time I saw Harry he said he was going to the booth for a bit.”

Of course, that should’ve been the first place I looked. I thanked Louis and motioned Isabel to follow me, both of us squeezing through the throngs of people and to the corner that had been reserved for Mark. Finally, I spotted him. Harry was sprawled across one of the booths chatting animatedly to someone I didn’t know. He had rolled up his sleeves to just below his elbow exposing some interesting tattoos I hadn’t noticed until now. I had a sudden urge to slide up next to him and ask him to explain each one in detail. I shook the thoughts away, forcing myself to refocus on the task at hand.

I approached him tentatively, hoping to catch his eye subtly before he realised who was standing mere steps away from him. As he turned from the person to take a drink from his half empty beer bottle that was sitting on the table, he finally noticed me standing awkwardly. “Fin!”

I rocked back on my heels once before stumbling into the booth next to Harry. He miracuously didn’t notice Isabel, but when I got up close to him I became aware of the haze in his eyes and the flush of pink on his cheeks. I’m sure the alcohol is playing some part in his complete lack of observation right now. “I bumped into someone,” I spoke hastily into his ear.

“Was it Zayn again? I saw you two speaking again before. Youse hitting it off?” He took a sip of his beer and raised his eyebrows suggestively.

I shook my head, Zayn was currently the furthest thing from my mind. “No, it was… you-know-who.”

He furrowed his brow, “...Harry Potter?”

“Oh my-- You wanker, that’s Voldemort. And that’s completely not what I’m referring to. You know… The pact? The whole reason we are here right now?” I lowered my voice, not wanting any unassuming individuals to hear what was transpiring between us even though I’m sure the bass of the music and din of conversation would sufficiently cover our words.

I watched Harry process my words before the gears finally clunked into place, his eyes bulging ever so slightly. “Is… You found her?”

I jerked my head back, indicating she was standing just to the right of us. His gaze drifted over my shoulder before snapping back to me. “Fuck.”

“She is keen to talk.”

“I’m not!”

I scoffed, “Don’t puss out now. We shook on it and it is happening.”

“But I’ve been drinking and--”

“Perfect, doing it sober would be so much more painful. Look, I’ll stay with you, act as a buffer or scapegoat or whatever.”

He swallowed visibly, eyes darting to where Isabel was situated and back. “Okay…” he breathed out.

I slid out of the booth, Harry following considerably less gracefully. I turned to regain Isabel’s attention, she had fallen into conversation with someone. The lights from the bar bounced off her in an almost inhuman way, accentuating her already goddess like features. I would be on the verge of hypnosis if it weren’t for Harry nudging my shoulder forward. “Uh… Isabel?” I finally called, just as she turned from the person she was conversing with. 

She met my gaze before her eyeline tracked to the boy who was practically cowering behind me. “Harry, hey.” A tentative smile fell on her lips. 

I sidestepped, forcing Harry to be in full view of Isabel. A quick elbow in the ribs from me and he spluttered out a greeting in return. “How have you been?” He finally managed. 

Isabel launched into the conversation as I fell to the wayside and observed the two of them. Earlier I had been so impressed with the amount of confidence Harry carried himself with, but now he was a ball of nerves. He fiddled with his rings, played with the hem of his shirt, repeatedly ran his hands through his hair, shifted his weight from foot to foot. Whilst he still spoke with that nonchalant tone, I could tell it wasn’t all smooth sailing underneath. Isabel, on the other hand, seemed calm and collected; as though she was just talking with an old friend, not your ex-boyfriend of almost 7 years who you haven’t had any contact with for over six months. 

I was about to slip away, thinking Harry was being pretty adept at keeping the conversation flowing without my help, when Isabel mentioned my name. “So, how did you meet Fin? You guys are dating or…?”

“Wha—“ I started.

“Oh god, no.” Harry jumped in.

I raised an eyebrow, “You couldn’t have denied that in any nicer way?” 

Harry’s mouth slightly gaped as he turned his head from between Isabel and I. His sudden loss for words made me suddenly remember the real reason why I’m standing here and that I am supposed to be making this easier for him.

“Well, as Harry so kindly pointed out we aren’t dating. We were set up on one blind date and yeah…” I trailed off, looking pointedly at Harry hoping he would jump back into the conversation.

“Yes— Right...” He spluttered out. “I suppose we hit it off more as friends.”

Isabel nodded slowly, her eyes travelling between Harry and myself as though she almost didn’t believe the non-romantic connection we were boasting about. “A blind date… That’s cute.”

“Yeah, actually I’m looking to set Fin up with someone at the moment.”

My eyes widened. Was Harry more sloshed than I thought? He was about to reveal our whole plan to the one person who did not need to be informed. Just as I was about to segue into something completely unrelated, Isabel cut in.

“No way! Oh my god, do you know who’s single now? Remember Stephan? That--”

“That lived down the hall in your second year dorm?”

“Yes! He could be a good idea.”

“Definitely not; that guy was a proper nonce.”

“He wasn’t that bad.”

“I’m pretty sure I recall him tacking up all his used condom packets onto his cupboard so anyone who went into his room could see how many girls he had shagged.”

Isabel laughed earning a small quirk of a smile from Harry. “Well that was back when he was 19. I’m sure he’s more civilised nowadays.”

Harry merely shook his head but from the slight twinkle in his eye and the dimple making an appearance on his left cheek, I could tell he was finally at ease in this conversation. 

The two of them launched down memory lane, both shooting off names of people I didn’t know who would apparently be a good match for me. I merely backed away, slightly proud of the success the moment I had concocted was having. I returned back to the now empty booth that Harry was previously occupying and slid in knowing that I would still be able to keep an eye on him and swoop in if things suddenly fell apart.

“You found Harry I see.”

I was so focused on Harry and Isabel that I hadn’t even felt the body slump into the booth next to me. It was Louis. He was staring pointedly at the pair with an unreadable expression.

“Yes! Took some convincing but I managed to get him to say hello to Isabel.”

He pursed his lips, “Looks like more than a hello to me.”

“Well… Yeah, they’ve hit it off I suppose. Reminiscing and all that.”

Louis watched the two of them for a few seconds more before turning away. “Anyways, I’m pretty sure Niall is one drink away from being kicked out so I think it’ll be good to call it a night. I’ll go grab Harry so he can start making the rounds.”

I furrowed my brow almost ready to protest, but I had a feeling that this was something that wasn’t up for discussion. “Oh, sure.”

I watched Louis walk over to Harry, clapping his hand onto Harry’s shoulder and began informing him of Niall’s drunkenness. Isabel nodded understandingly and gave a small wave to the boys as Louis steered Harry away and back to where I was sitting.

Despite the abrupt ending to their encounter Harry was still beaming as he came over to me. “We gotta go apparently. You good with that?” He leaned over me grabbing his coat that he had seemingly stashed behind the booth. I nodded absently as I watched Louis drag Niall away from the makeshift dance floor. Niall stumbled slightly but I think that was more due to the fact that Louis had such a frantic pace.

“Fin,” Harry’s hand waved in front of my face, “you sure you’re good? Do you feel like you’re gonna be sick?”

I met Harry’s suddenly concerned gaze. “I’m alright. Let’s go.” I stood up to further prove that I truly was okay but wobbled a little on my heels. After more than four hours my feet were beginning to get that burning feeling.

Niall looked at me with scrutinising eyes. “I’m not sitting next to you in the Uber, I don’t want sick all over my shoes.”

I raised my eyebrows, “I’m pretty sure you’re the most sloshed out of the lot of us.”

“I only had six beers! And two shots of something, I asked for whatever is cheapest.”

I laughed, knowing my point had been adequately proven.

“Come on mate,” Louis threw his arm across Niall’s shoulders and began guiding him towards the exit.

Niall ducked his head under Louis’ arm and shoved him slightly. “You’re a knobhead.”

Harry chuckled and looked on at the two bickering figures as they headed through the crowd. I slipped my hand around Harry’s elbow not wanting to get separated as we pushed past everyone and we both headed back up the stairs and out into the cool London air.

Louis was already a few ways down the street tapping away on his phone, ordering an Uber I suppose, and Niall was jumping around him whilst simultaneously rubbing his arms vigorously. He hadn’t brought a coat as he didn’t have one that ‘complimented his outfit’s vibe’, his words not mine. Clearly he was regretting that decision now.

“Car should be here in about 5,” Louis informed as Harry and I approached the two. I slipped my hand away from Harry, I hadn’t realised I was still hanging on to his elbow.

I wrapped my arms tightly across my torso in an attempt to maintain as much body heat as possible. It was only early October and yet the night air had an incredible crispness to it, my leather jacket unfortunately wasn’t doing much. As I slightly hopped from one foot to another, I felt Harry step closer behind me. He could clearly see my feeble attempts to keep warm and just that slight body contact from him made all the difference.

“Oi, someone come and hug me. Or better yet, give me their jacket.” Niall spoke through chattering teeth.

“It’s only 9°, suck it up. Plus, you’re Irish so this should be nothing for you.” Louis retorted.

Niall grumbled in response but still continued to jump around.

“Here’s the car,” Louis called seconds later.

“Thank fuck.” Niall took off towards the white sedan that had rolled to a stop a over on the next block. Harry and Louis began following. 

“Oh, guys. I’ll catch youse later, yeah?” 

Harry stopped and turned, “What you on about?”

“I’m just gonna catch the tube home, it’ll be too expensive to make the Uber go from your place to mine. And I know there’s no room for me to stay over at yours.”

Harry furrowed his brow, “Well I’m not about to let you go off and catch a train at half one in the morning. Alone.”

I laughed, “Harry. I’ll be fine, trust me. Thanks for a good night, alright?” 

“Mate!” Both Harry and I turned our attention to Louis who was currently leaning out the side of the Uber. “You coming?”

Harry raised his arm and Louis nodded. I watched him snap the door shut and the car peeled away from the curb and into the street. 

Just as I was about to argue with Harry’s decision he cut me off, “Don’t say a word. I feel far more comfortable personally taking you home and knowing that you’re safe.”

“Harry, you can’t keep doing this. I am not some 5 minute trip down the road for you, we literally live on opposite sides of London.”

He shrugged, “I enjoy the scenery.”

I exhaled heavily knowing that nothing I would say would change this boys mind. Instead, I turned on my heel and began walking towards the closest platform which I knew was only a few blocks away and Harry happily followed along.

****

Surprisingly, it wasn’t the brilliant beam of sunlight pouring in through my bedroom window that awakened me. Nor was it the unusual amount of heat radiating next to me in my bed. Instead, it was the steady knocking against my forehead. Each knock bounced around my skull, the brutal beginnings of a hangover.

“Fin.” The knocking stopped, a stern voice instead piercing through my head. Then the knocking started again. “Are you awake?”

I prised an eye open, ready to tell the person who was knocking on my head to piss off only to realise no one was hanging over my head with their fist. Instead, the knocking was originating from the outside of my bedroom door, which someone without a jackhammer rattling around in their brain would have immediately realised. 

“What do you want?” I croaked out, knowing my body would not cooperate if I attempted to get up and open the door.

The door cracked open, it was Alice. She clearly took my feeble response as an invitation to come in. “Your phone has been buzzing non-stop for the past 47 minutes, you left it on the kitchen counter.” She stepped forward and dropped my phone onto the foot of my bed.

“Alice,” I moaned, “you know I went out last night and got in late. This really isn’t a matter of waking me up at the crack of dawn about.”

“For your information, it is well after 8am, and the buzzing was interrupting my focus. You know I complete The Times crossword every Sunday morning. If your phone can interrupt me then I can interrupt your sleep.”

I simply groaned and threw my arm over my eyes, wanting to block her from my existence.

She huffed at my somewhat childish move but I heard her turn to leave. “By the way, there is a boy in your bed.” 

As my bedroom door clicked shut, I jolted upright, my head snapping to my left.  _ Oh fuck.  _ She was not joking. Sprawled out next to me, taking up more than half my bed was Harry. The abnormal warmth in my bed suddenly made sense but the thumping in my head was making it hard for me to piece together the last few hours of the previous night. 

I remember the tube home, Harry insisting on staying the train with me, the rocking of the carriage lulling us into a sleepy stupor, the two of us stumbling up the street to my flat. I suppose I must have invited him to stay. At least my drunk and tired self had some sense as to not send the poor bloke back up to Watford by himself in the early hours of the morning. A quick glance down confirmed that I was in my normal sleeping attire (an old band shirt and joggers) meaning I had dressed myself. I peeked under the duvet and saw that Harry was still wearing his trousers and button-down, clearly we didn’t get up to something regretful.

Too amped up to even consider going back to sleep, I slipped as quiet as possible out of my bed and to the bathroom adjacent to my room. Without even looking in the mirror I knew my face needed a good scrub. I threw back two Advil before wiping off the remnants of last nights makeup and scraped my hair into a lopsided bun. Leaving the bathroom, I paused outside my bedroom door. Should I wake Harry? Or let him sleep?

The decision was made for me when I back into the room. Harry was sat up, eyes squinting and hands running through the unruly mess of curls on his head. “Your phone won’t shut it,” he spoke in an extremely hoarse sounding voice.

“Oh...” I merely managed. He seemed completely unfazed by the fact that he has just woken up in my bedroom. I grabbed my phone from the foot of my bed, the screen lighting up as I brought it to eye level. It was filled with notifications, the large majority of them from Margot. Six missed calls and a dozen texts. I clicked through to the messages app. “Fuck!”

Harry jolted, his eyes blinking rapidly. “What? Is everything okay?”

“You need to go. Like, right now.”

He blinked again, the urgency of my words seemingly not alarming him. “Why?”

I huffed and reached over, pulling back the duvet and grabbing Harry by the arm. “My best friend,” I tugged on him, “is going to be here any minute. I forgot we had made brunch plans and if she sees you in my bed her head may explode.” I yanked his arm again without much success of moving him.

Harry merely shook my pulling hands away and furrowed his brow. “We can just make it look like I slept on the sofa or something.”

I gave up on trying to move Harry and instead threw my focus into finding some appropriate clothes to change into. I spotted my favourite pair of comfy jeans that I had haphazardly thrown over my desk chair earlier in the week and a striped shirt laying near the foot of my laundry hamper. Good enough.

“Margot will know better, Alice would never allow some boy to sleep on our sofa,” I replied to Harry whilst I dug through my drawer to find a clean bra.

I heard Harry scoff, “I am not some boy!”

I turned to back to him to see his face pulled into a pout. I couldn't help but laugh at the sight of Harry in my bed, curls sticking up and arms crossed over his chest.  “You’re seriously choosing that to be offended over right now?”

“Well… That and the fact that I have woken up in a lovely girl’s bed with a wicked headache and she hasn’t even offered to make me a cuppa.”

I gaped at him. “I promise I will shout you a breakfast at a later date, tea and coffee included. Now will you  _ please _ get moving?”

He sighed exaggeratedly but still swung his legs out of my bed and stood up. “Standards sure have changed in regards to staying over someone's house.”

I rolled my eyes at his dramatics but still pushed him out of my room and towards the bathroom. Once alone, I quickly changed into my chosen outfit and re-tied my hair into a more ‘put together’ bun. A soft knock sounded just as I was assessing my reflection in the mirror. I called, signalling that it was safe for Harry to re-enter. He still looked slightly bleary eyed but his hair was sufficiently more tamed and his face refreshed.

“I can’t believe I’m about to do the walk of shame without having done anything shameful.” His voice had returned to it’s usually smooth drawl.

“If you’re sporting a headache as bad as mine currently is then I’m sure that’s shameful enough. Nothing like your body reminding you that you’re no longer a teen who can absorb alcohol like there’s no tomorrow.”

Harry rubbed his eyes with both hands, “That is true.”

“I’ll grab you some Advil.” I gestured for Harry to follow me back to the bathroom and grabbed the pills from the cabinet. He gulped them down before I even had a chance to offer him a glass of water.

“Desperate times,” he spoke in response to my somewhat shocked expression.

I couldn’t help but laugh as I led Harry back down the hallway, both at our patheticness when it comes to hangovers and the fact that Harry was willingly following my request for him to leave so abruptly. Just as I was about to voice my thoughts to Harry, another cut me off.

“Finley O’Connor!”

Harry and I had just stepped into the living room to be met with the image of Margot, eyes wide and two coffees held in her hands.

“Margot!” I squeaked. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Yeah, Alice let me in. She said you were busy. I can clearly see that now.” I watched Margot’s eyes travel up and down Harry, taking in his disheveled appearance. I knew exactly what she was currently thinking.

“Whatever you’re thinking happened absolutely didn’t.”

She raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

“This is Harry… You know… The one I was telling you about the other day.”

“The boy that you told me you definitely weren’t shagging?”

Harry couldn’t help but snicker at that.

Margot finally put down the two coffee cups on my dining table so her hands were free to flail about with accusatory gestures. “Ha! So you are shagging! Fin, you promised you were going to tell me if there was any chance you were with a guy!”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. I loved Margot but she was always quick to jump to the completely wrong conclusion. “Margot if you let me explain, which is what I was going to do today at brunch, Harry and I--”

“We are definitely  _ not  _ shagging,” Harry cut in. “She was kind enough to let me crash here last night so I wouldn’t have to drag my sorry arse back up to Watford at half 2 in the morning.”

Margot narrowed her eyes, still not buying it. “First you two go on a date, now you’re spending the night. How convenient…”

“Look, can we please just go and get some food and I will fully explain this whole situation. I promise.”

She tilted her head, eyes still flicking between Harry and I. “Fine then,” she finally conceded. “But I am almost tempted to drink the coffee I bought for you as a form of punishment for keeping me in the dark about this whole situation.”

I let out a breath and gave her a smile, she always came around eventually.

“Well then…” Harry rocked back and forth on his toes whilst wringing his hands together. “Lovely to meet you Margot. Fin, I’ll… see you later?” He looked at me questioningly, almost as though he was thinking I was going to back out of our agreement just because of this encounter with Margot.

“Of course, I’ll text you.”

“Um, no.” Margot said coolly. 

Both Harry and I turned to look at her, a look of unease washing over Harry.

“Harry, you are most definitely joining us for brunch. I need the  _ full  _ story.” Margot crossed her arms and raised a single eyebrow. Clearly she was not budging on this.

Harry simply shrugged. “Cool with me, Fin owes me breakfast anyways.”

Margot grinned, happy that she had already won him over. “I believe Fin owes both of us a meal.”

I gaped. “Excuse me? I’m pretty sure I only promised one person here a shout.”

“For my emotional trauma,” Margot said dramatically. She turned and grabbed the two coffees, passing one to myself and Harry. I immediately took a gulp.

“Oh yeah, mines for emotional trauma too. You know she wouldn’t even give me a cup of tea when I woke up this morning?!” 

“Oh my god.” They have known eachother for all of five minutes and were already in cahoots with one another. Harry took a long sip of his coffee and winked at me over the top of the cup. I merely shook my head and grabbed my purse that I had left on the lounge. “Well, let’s go then. Apparently I owe some arseholes brunch.”

Margot laughed gleefully and started towards the door, Harry immediately following suit. I knew by the end of the day, even if it meant probable hell for me, those two would be as thick as thieves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a hot minute, thank you if you're still here.  
> feel free to let me know your thoughts here or over on my [tumblr](https://midnghtcities.tumblr.com/)!


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